


Choose

by shadowhostage (thenakednymph)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Big ass dragon swoops in crashes a tower and saves the day, Gen, I'm so sorry this is marked as complete, M/M, MERLIN IS NOT DEAD, Merthur but only if you squint, but it all goes to hell from there, it is but it isn't?, it's not even good, my hand slipped, surprise, the next chapter is just a mess and won't come together, why did I post this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/shadowhostage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana has captured both Guinevere and Merlin and forces Arthur to choose which one he wants to keep alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FAIR WARNING- TECHNICALLY THIS INVOLVES CHARACTER DEATH. I've left the fic marked as complete because the second chapter is a pain in the ass that will not for the life of me come together.

Morgana flicked her nail against the blade in her hands, a savage grin on her face. “So who will it be?” She paced lightly back and forth, insanity having had no effect on her grace. She stood as tall and proud as she ever had, every inch a queen; the mad would be queen of Camelot. Arthur’s heart ached for how far she’d fallen, even as she pressed this decision on him.

“Come brother, it can’t be that difficult.” She threw her arms up, gesturing first to Gwen. “The woman you love…” She knelt beside Guinevere, running her fingers along the other woman’s jaw as she wept, her cries hidden behind the gag. Morgana pouted at her and Arthur struggled against his own bonds, desperate to free her.

“Oh come now, don’t cry.” Morgana wiped at Gwen’s tears with her sleeve, kissing her cheek sweetly. “Or,” she drawled, once again speaking to Arthur. She rose smoothly to her feet as she spoke, moving to paw at Merlin, bound to the floor with cold iron. 

He, like Gwen, was crying, but looked far more battered. Unlike Guinevere, he had not been treated well. Morgana caught his face with one hand, twisting his head up, forcing him to look at Arthur. “Your precious little manservant? Bet you didn’t know just how important he was,” she teased, letting Merlin’s head go to prop herself up against his side, one arm draped around his shoulders. 

“Bet he still doesn’t, does he Merlin?” She patted him on the head, running her fingers through his matted hair. “Our little wizard here…” Arthur bristled at the word and Morgan latched onto the reaction. “Oh,” she trilled, “you didn’t know?” She laughed mercilessly, looking between them as Merlin hunched into his shoulders, staring at the floor, worrying at the shackles. 

“Indeed. Our little Merlin, the wizard. You know, you really should have listened to him…about me, about Agravaine, about Mordred.” She ticked the names off on her fingers, grinning; all teeth. “He sees so much more than you do, more than you think he does,” she mocked. “I bet you didn’t even know how many times he’s saved your life; the idiot manservant who can’t keep a secret.

“Sounds like he managed to keep at least one from you.” She tilted her head to the side watching Arthur like a snake. “And if there’s one there may be more.” She let the words hang in the air before pressing on. “I bet he’s even in love with you,” she purred softly. “Spent the nights pining after you, aching for you.” Her voice was husky and dark, full of lust and Merlin hunkered closer to the floor, his face flushing, curling deeper into himself. Morgana followed the movement with her eyes.

“Don’t be ashamed Merlin, it’s quite common. Any man would fall for him.” Still she laughed, basking in the tension and Merlin’s discomfort, her arm thrown playfully around his torso, the knife flashing in her fingers. 

“The king and his manservant,” she teased. “Do tell Merlin; don’t leave us all in the dark.” She leaned more heavily against him, her tone conspiratorial. “Is it true?” When he didn’t answer Morgana wrenched his head back, pressing the tip of the blade to his flaming cheek suddenly angry, watching Arthur’s face as she drew blood, desperate for a reaction, needing it, feeding on it.

Merlin set his teeth and closed his eyes, utterly humiliated, refusing to speak, chest heaving. When both remained silent Morgan huffed a sigh releasing her hold on him. 

“All joking aside,” she said, beginning to pace. “You need him. Refuse to believe in magic and destiny all you want,” she said, waving away any interruption Arthur might have had, “refuse to let it bloom within the walls of Camelot, but without magic, without Merlin,” she pointed the blade at Merlin, “you’ll never build Albion.” She turned the knife, pointing at Gwen. “And without her, you will never have an heir, never have a child to carry on your legacy, to continue your work. 

“So what will it be?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, tapping the knife against her ribs, “the kingdom you’ve always dreamed of and a peace that will only last a few years, war settling in after you die, leaving the land in chaos without an heir; or a silly dream for all that Camelot could be, all that it could become but won't, sacrificed for your own personal happiness and an heir you can maybe impress these same dreams upon, living on the hope that maybe your son will create what you failed to.” She leered at Arthur, watching the emotions wash over his face. “Who can’t you live without?”

Arthur struggled against his bonds, rage radiating from very inch of him and Morgana rolled her eyes, flopping irritably into a stone chair mounted on the dais. 

“Really Arthur, it’s not that difficult. Gwen or Merlin, Merlin or Gwen. Who do you want?” She tapped the knife irritably against the chair, the clink-clinking echoing around the room as she waited. 

She watched as Arthur struggled for a moment more, growing ever more impatient with his indecision. “Struggle all you want, but you’re not getting out until you make a choice. And you will choose brother,” she threatened. “Or I will kill them both.”

Arthur’s hands curled into fists and he dropped his head, the fight going out of his shoulders and the sight made Merlin’s heart burn, hating himself for getting them into this, for being responsible for this choice. If only he’d been more careful, if only he’d told Arthur everything, if only he’d never come to Camelot in the first place; none of this would have to happen. Tears of guilt scorched down his cheeks, matting his lashes.

Still, he knew Arthur would make the right choice, would choose Gwen, his wife-to-be over him and that brought him some sense of peace. Merlin was ready to die for Arthur, for Albion; he always had been and he steeled his resolve, waiting to hear him speak the words that would condemn him to death.

Arthur whispered something and Morgana flicked the knife more irritably. “I’m sorry, what was that?” she pressed. “I didn’t hear you. I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up.”

Instead of tears Arthur’s gaze was as hard as steel when he looked at Morgana, fire in his eyes. “Merlin,” he ground out and Morgana leered as Merlin shouted in shocked protest, but his cries went unheard.

“You damn well heard me,” Arthur snapped when Morgana didn’t move, both of them completely ignoring Merlin as he struggled to break free, the blisters on his wrists splitting. Merlin didn’t care what it took, he would not let Morgana take Gwen’s life; would not let Arthur make this decision. He would not let Arthur give up Gwen to save his life.

“Yes, I heard you, but say it again, just for me,” Morgana asked, her tone cloying and triumphant.

“Don’t,” Merlin shouted as the cuffs finally tore at his skin, drawing blood. “I’m not worth it,” he rushed, Arthur finally catching his gaze, silencing him. 

“Merlin.” The word was tight and broken, caught in Arthur’s teeth. “Shut up.” Morgana flicked the knife, striding hard and fast to Gwen’s side as Merlin screamed, lunging for her, wrenching his arms in the shackles.

“Morgana stop!” For some reason, she did, cocking her head to the side and listening. “Don’t,” he wept, trying to make himself coherent through the tears. “Please, don’t. You wanted to hurt him and you have. Just look at him.” He gestured at Arthur with his bound hands and Morgana looked. When her back was turned Arthur had sunk to his knees, his tears staining the stone and she grinned in pride. 

“He chose me,” Merlin choked out.

“Yes, he did,” she said, kneeling beside Guinevere and Arthur screamed in time with Merlin, but it was Merlin’s cries that halted her. 

“Take me! Take me damn it, take me.” She turned her head, her hand fisted in Gwen’s hair. 

“Why?”

Merlin could barely see through his tears. “Because,” he struggled, self loathing curling so tight around his stomach he thought he would be sick. “He chose me. And killing me,” he sobbed, “will hurt him more.” Her curled into the floor, broken, as Arthur writhed against the restraints, shouting and cursing, once again trying to free himself.

Morgana watched for a moment, her eyes sharp and assessing, a smile twisting her mouth. “Deal.”

Merlin didn’t see her coming, but cried out as she yanked at his hair, baring his throat, his neck popping, mouth parting in a gasp of pain and surprise. His eyes met Arthur’s as Morgana drew the knife across his throat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT A FULL CHAPTER but I always feel like an ass when I get reviews on the first part so here, this is the only readable part from the next chapter. The rest of this chapter, like I mentioned previously, may never be written but I'm tired of leaving you all hanging so this is all I have to offer.

As Morgana pulled the blade across Merlin's throat three things happened simultaneously: Arthur screamed, the pale flesh of Merlin's neck parting, gaping, red like a second mouth opening wide as Morgana pulled his head back, blood spraying through the air; the castle shuddered, stone grinding, twisting, rending under some unseen weight before cracking, splintering like dried tinder and caving in on itself with a cloud of dust and powdered stone; Morgana laughed. As the ceiling came down she laughed, high and mad, the sound shrill and grinding, lingering about like a vile perfume even as she vanished in a curl of smoke and wind.

  
Merlin's body fell to the side, eyes wide as the dragon roared, nails shredding stone like a beast might sharpen its claws on a tree, squirming its way inside. Merlin clutched at his throat, blood and air bubbling and spitting from the wound, his lips trying to form words as Kilgharrah and half the building came crashing down around them, pebbles and shards of rock ricocheting off the ground and the walls, the sound leaving their ears ringing.

  
The dragon shrieked again, scrambling into the room through the hole, golden body undulating like molten metal as it squeezed inside. It wrapped itself around Merlin's body as he bled out onto the floor, close and protective, tender even, like a mother comforting a child. He spoke in a language Arthur didn't recognize, breathing a stream of warm breath over Merlin, the words surprisingly quiet in the riotous aftermath of the dragon's entry. His tail curled tightly around Merlin, blocking him from view and Arthur shouted his name, panicking when he lost sight of Merlin. Gwen lay on the floor, her face turned away. She hadn't moved since Morgana had pulled the blade across Merlin's neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay don't panic. Technically Merlin isn't dead. Kilgharrah comes crashing in through the tower in chapter two and saves his life. Everything is okay. The damn chapter just won't come together. I have not given up on it, I WILL post it if and when it decides to behave, but just so you know, everything is okay. Merlin is okay. -hugs and kisses-


End file.
